


The Lace Sunflower

by StackerPentecost



Category: Pilgrimage (2017)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, Lace Panties, M/M, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-01
Updated: 2019-05-01
Packaged: 2020-02-10 19:23:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18666805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StackerPentecost/pseuds/StackerPentecost
Summary: Diarmuid stays up late studying but maybe he has other things in mind that may just involve dressing up a little for his boyfriend.-----This is part of a modern college AU frankiebaby and I came up with. Diarmuid is a religious studies major focusing on Ireland during the Crusades. He often frequents a local Irish pub where The Mute (who we've dubbed as David as others have) works. David is also mute in this but he does use sign language sometimes. They become close after Diarmuid comes to David's defense on more than one occasion because of his condition. Diarmuid is 22 and David is around ten years older.





	The Lace Sunflower

**Author's Note:**

  * For [logandelos](https://archiveofourown.org/users/logandelos/gifts).



> This AU has a lot more to it, I just have only managed to write bits and of pieces of it so we'll see where this goes. Italicized words are David's sign language but also Irish but only when the translation follows. David has been picking up the language from listening to his boyfriend practice, though he really only uses it as a form of endearment.  
> Catch me as frankcastlesmuscles on Tumblr.

Diarmuid yawned softly, poking at his omelet with a fork. The clock on the stove read 3:35 am in bright script that almost hurt his eyes in the dim light coming from overhead. His religious symbolism book was on the kitchen table, along with about a million scattered papers with various states of scribbling on them. He’d been up since seven that morning and had been studying since midnight. He knew he should go to sleep, knew David wouldn’t be happy when he got home from the bar to find him still awake and part of him wanted nothing more than to shut off all the lights, wander back into the bedroom and crawl into the bed so he could pass out for a while. But his stomach kept rumbling and part of him hated sleeping in an empty bed, so here he was, making a sad excuse for an omelet and trying his best to not burn it or light the kitchen on fire.

Diarmuid was a smart kid but allowing him to cook was a trust exercise. 

He was so absorbed in his task, carefully turning and checking and adjusting that he didn’t hear the sound of keys in the lock on the apartment door or when it opened and David stepped inside. The taller man was dressed in a shirt that had the logo for the bar he worked at on it and a pair of jeans, a coat pulled around his broad shoulders to protect against from the autumn night chill. He slipped off the coat and stooped to untie his boots before making his way down the hall. He knew Diarmuid was awake as soon as he got in the apartment, the smell of cooking eggs unmistakable, so when he rounded the corner and found him at the stove, he wasn’t surprised.

Until it dawned on him what the younger man was wearing. 

His curly brown hair was sticking up in odd places, probably from him repeatedly running his fingers through it. He was wearing an over sized sweatshirt, one that undoubtedly belonged to David. But that wasn’t what had his attention. It was what was underneath.

David swallowed and bit his lip, approaching slowly. 

The lace was navy blue and hugged pale, freckled skin like it painted on. He couldn’t see everything, the sweater long enough to hang down and cover most of the fabric, but David knew there was no mistaking what he was seeing. 

It made him ache something awful.

He could remember picking that pair out too, could remember the way the lace felt against his fingertips. Touch was a strong sense for him, thanks to what he’d been through and who he was, and he had remembered how good the fabric had felt on his skin and how he’d mentally compared the shade in his head to others, trying to decide what would look best. In the end, the little bow on the front had convinced him to get that pair.

David had been afraid the kid would think he was trying to compensate for something by doing this, by initiating this new aspect of their relationship. That maybe Diarmuid would mistakenly think he was trying to equate him with someone more feminine. That he, a bisexual man, wasn’t happy dating a gay man when that couldn’t have been further from the truth.

He remembered how pleased he’d been when he’d seen how happy something simple like a lacy pair of underwear had made his partner. They always seemed to be on the same page and nothing made him feel more at ease.

But this sight though, now this was a nice surprise. 

David moved silently, as he usually did, until he was nearly right behind the younger man. Diarmuid was so busy worrying about his food that he paid little mind to anything else. He didn’t want to burn anything again, not when David worked so hard to provide a place for them in the first place.   
Needless to say, he was not expecting to be wrapped up in a pair of a strong arms, one large hand palming his backside.    
He jumped and shouted, cringing a moment later. He hoped he hadn’t woken the neighbors. He wiggled around and turned to look up at David, who was wearing a mischievous smile. Diarmuid’s cheeks burned on their own accord when the other man gave his ass a pointed squeeze.   
“Is-Is that your new way of saying hello?”

David rolled his eyes playfully and kissed Diarmuid’s head in greeting. Diarmuid smiled softly, slipping his arms around David’s middle. “I missed you.” He murmured, laying his head against his chest. David made sure his hands were free and that he was seen before responding,  _ “I missed you too.” _

Diarmuid stepped back and David let him go. The younger boy chewed his lip before hesitantly lifting the sweatshirt up and revealing the front of the lace panties. The dark color contrasted in a lovely sort of way against his skin, even the bow on the front, which sat just below a bit of treasure trail. He shifted a bit nervously, having not stood so out in the open like this wearing so little, even though it wasn’t out in public. “I take it that you like this?”   
David’s smile grew bigger,  _ “I love it. You look so damn pretty, sweetheart.” _ _  
_ Diarmuid’s cheeks grew even warmer and he ducked his head, looking down at his hands, picking at his fingernails. “I like the way it makes me feel.” He admitted softly. “I like that I can look like this for you. I  _ love  _ the way you look at me when I wear stuff like this.” 

_ “Is that why you dressed up and stayed awake, just for me?” _ _  
_ Diarmuid glanced over at the table where he’d left his work. “I was studying but then I got thinking about you and I know how shitty work has been for you lately, so I wanted to surprise you.” 

David was still for a long time, his eyes simply taking in the sight of Diarmuid before him. When he finally moved, it was first to reach to turn off the stove before approaching the younger man again, backing him against the counter this time. His hands turned Diarmuid around so their backs were pressed together as he was leaned him over. His hips found that lace clad ass easily, grinding against it. Even through his jeans, Diarmuid could tell this whole thing had gotten his partner excited. 

“I hope this is your way of saying thank you.” He managed, suddenly breathless. He pressed back, letting the other man do as he pleased. He knew he didn’t have to worry. Despite being non verbal, they never had communication issues. It had been bumpy at first but now they were so in sync, it was like they were of the same thought process. His words were rewarded with several kisses to his neck and he groaned. 

Strong hands pushed his sweater up and lips followed, kissing every inch of skin that was revealed. Diarmuid shivered as David drew lower and lower, planting kisses everywhere. He whined when the lace was pulled down and the kisses followed there too. 

“Oh-Oh, you’re not going to -” Diarmuid didn’t get a chance to finish before a wet tongue pressed between his cheeks, stroking every sensitive area in just the right way. His hands searching for something, anything, to hold onto, before settling on gripping the edge of the counter to keep his knees from giving out. 

For somebody who didn’t speak, David sure did know how to make a point. 

Diarmuid leaned forward, resting his head on the tile, which felt cool on his parched skin. He tried not to make so much noise but David wasn’t giving him an inch, eating him out like it was his last meal on earth. His beard scrapped against the boy’s thighs pleasantly and he was sure they’d be as red as the rest of him once he was done. 

“Please..” The young boy begged. “Please, please just, I need you, please…” 

Gentle hands gathered Diarmuid up, lifting him easily as they made their way through the darkened apartment. He soon found himself settled on their bed, his sweatshirt slipped over shoulders but the panties still tugged halfway down his thighs. 

As it always was when they were together, there was nothing uncomfortable about it. Even though David never spoke and barely uttered a sound, he still made Diarmuid feel like they were the only people in the whole world. Even this time, when it wasn’t so slow and sweet, both of them needing each other more than usual, it was still what both of them wanted. It wasn’t perfect, but maybe that’s what made it so good. 

They moved together like they were one person, every sound Diarmuid made spurring his partner on, hands clasping together like they couldn’t stand to be any further apart. It was almost frantic and Diarmuid was more than happy to move with David, to let him do what they both needed so desperately. 

“I love you.” Diarmuid breathed and David responded in his own way, leaning their heads together so he could kiss him deeply. Diarmuid didn’t need to hear it to know he felt the same way. 

And just as they did everything else together, they rode up high together and came crashing back to earth just the same. 

When Diarmuid’s eyes opened again, the older man had cleaned them both up and tucked the covers over them. His strong arms wrapped around him protectively and Diarmuid rolled over, curling into his chest. Outside, he could hear the birds beginning to wake up and sing their songs. He was exhausted, but so deeply content that he didn’t really care about the missed sleep. He tipped his head up and nuzzled against David’s beard,  _ “OÍche mhaith a stór.” Goodnight, my love. _

David shifted and kissed the top of Diarmuid’s head, voice coming out thick and sleepy but sincere,  _ “Brionglóidí milis, lus na gréine.” Sweet dreams, sunflower.  _

Diarmuid fell asleep with a blush on his cheeks yet again. 


End file.
